Rules Were Made To Be Broken
by GreenEyesGreySkies
Summary: Draco is a prefect, in other words, he likes to follow the rules. Harry, on the other hand, likes to break them. Library banter. Hogwarts 8th year oneshot. AU.


**Author's Note: It's just very late at night right now and I don't even know if this makes sense but you know what, screw it.**

**Disclaimer: ****These characters are not mine. If they were, they'd be snogging in hidden cupboards. All the time.**

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"No _fucking_ way!"

"Come on, it'll be fun!"

"No!" Draco snarled again. His tone was extra biting today, but Potter didn't even bat an eyelash at it, clearly used to the abuse. Draco scowled. Bastard.

"Oh please, don't tell me that you aren't dying to try it," Potter insisted. He drummed his fingers impatiently against the battered library table. Potter knew that Draco hated that noise. What was wrong with him?

Draco rolled his eyes. "I said no, damn it. Can't you just sit back and do your homework like a normal person?"

Potter chuckled. "Normal people don't do homework," he quipped.

Draco rolled his eyes again.

Ever since he and Potter had 'come to terms' at the beginning of their unofficial Eighth year at Hogwarts, the annoying Gryffindor prat had been blundering about at Draco's side, stirring up all kinds of idiotic trouble and quite often dragging him into it. Draco used to be a model student with above-average marks and perfect attendance, but all that had changed when Potter was around. Potter had no regard for anyone or anything except for his own fun and games, and for some reason, they had been involving Draco's assistance more and more lately. Draco almost rolled his eyes. Surprisingly, the Gryffindor was a terrible influence on him, a Slytherin. He didn't know where this mischievous side of Potter had been all of these years, but it was as if it were cropping up all of the sudden, uncontrollable, a bit like hormones. Or maybe Draco had just never been this well acquainted with the bloke. Either way, it was so annoying.

Draco sighed. It had all started one day when they had had the misfortune of getting paired up in Potions, and after some initial argument over which ingredient to put in their first, Draco had somehow realised that he and Potter weren't so different after all. Or... he didn't know exactly what had happened. All that was certain was that the next thing Draco knew, he and Potter were huddled together instead, whispering about which ingredient they would sneak into _Blaise's_ potion when he wasn't looking. It had been loads of fun from the start; Draco could (grudgingly) admit that Potter was quite a laugh at times, and of course, Draco _did_ fancy himself the occasional sabotage, (Blaise had taken the last blueberry muffin that morning at breakfast), but Potter was positively ruthless when he was on one of his 'mischief rampages'. Draco had been forced to discover this over the many months with the blossoming acquaintance and had at first been shocked by it, but recently he liked to refer to it as a match made in hell. Because Potter could quite literally be the Devil and Draco would not be surprised.

And now, it was a lazy Sunday afternoon and Potter was _bored_, therefore it was an ideal time for the tiresome boy to come up with yet another one of his utterly idiotic schemes to get them both into a shitload of trouble. Or, most likely, just Draco (Potter was let off the hook more often than not, due to his stupid hero status). It always went the same way. Potter would come up with a grand idea, annoy Draco into doing it with him, they'd do it (and fail), and then Draco would be the one to take the fall. Always. He gritted his teeth in frustration. But no, not this time, because Potter was on his own. Besides, Draco was a prefect, for Merlin's sake! He could not be fooling around _all_ of the time. Plus, he could not serve another detention this week. Nope.

"So why not?" Potter asked, his green eyes becoming huge and speculative at the question, the way they always did when he wanted something particularly difficult from Draco that he could not have. Potter's stupid eyes were just altogether impossible to refuse and the cocky prat knew it.

Draco groaned and tried to look away. "For Merlin's sake, Potter, you are not a girl. Stop making those bloody doe eyes at me," he muttered, whirling around, although he could tell that Potter was grinning now.

"Oh come _on_, Draco," Potter pleaded.

"It's 'Malfoy'," Draco reminded him.

"Draco," the stubborn git repeated.

Draco glared at him.

"Come on," Potter whined again. "It's a _great _idea."

"Oh, like your other 'great ideas' were? Sneaking into the Ravenclaw common room? 'Anonymously' sending Snape that bottle of shampoo? Midnight _streaking_?" Draco shook his head bitterly. "You know, I will never unsee the look on McGonagall's face when she caught us slinking around in the castle together stark-naked. Do you even know what that insinuates? I reckon she still thinks we're fucking each other," he complained, glaring at Potter as if it were his fault that she thought that. Because _it was_.

Potter chuckled nervously. "O-o_kay_, so those weren't the greatest plans I've ever come up with," he admitted. "But this one is better, I promise. It'll be so worth it."

Draco groaned in exasperation. If he had only known that finally befriending the Boy-Who-Lived would cause him _this _much grief, he would have never done it in the first place. Gods, Potter was mental! Sneaking around, playing pranks, doing whatever he wanted when he wanted to do it, and just essentially... disturbing the public peace; Potter truly didn't give a damn. He was ten times worse than Draco_, _and Draco was the king of pranks. Well, cleverly-executed and sinister pranks, because the ridiculous ones that Potter liked to pull had no use to him. He was a _Slytherin_. But if he hadn't known better, he'd have thought that _Potter_ was the Slytherin.

"If you want to do it so much, ask Weasel," Draco muttered.

Potter crossed his arms. "Don't call him that," he warned firmly. Draco just shrugged. Potter rolled his eyes, but didn't push it. "Ron's with Hermione all day," Potter explained. "She wanted him to study with her for the upcoming exams but he refused and they got in a tiff, but now I think they're at the lake because it's really rather beautiful outside today and—well, the point _is_, he's not available."

Draco rubbed his forehead. "I cannot be your second choice," he murmured.

"You weren't," Potter agreed. "But Seamus has afternoon detention for that newt eye incident in Potions, Dean won't do it, and Neville's got private lessons."

"Private lessons for what?" Draco asked, with little interest.

"I don't know. I think he just said that to avoid me," Potter mused.

Draco snorted. "Imagine that."

Potter rolled his eyes again and shifted in his seat, causing his robes to slip off one shoulder and pull the wrinkled grey jumper he had on underneath, revealing a sliver of collarbone. Potter had nice collarbones, Draco had noticed. Especially after Quidditch practise, when the Gryffindor would be practically glowing from the exercise, and his chest was all expanded and tense... Not that Draco looked at Potter after practise often. Actually, no wait, he didn't. Draco ignored Potter's collarbones thoroughly.

"Why don't you want to do it with me?" Potter inquired curiously.

"Because you're a prat."

"No, seriously. Why?"

Draco eyed Potter with slight disdain. It should be rather obvious, but then again, Potter was the Boy-Who-Lived, not the Boy-Who-_Perceived_. Honestly, Potter had the brains equivalent to a pile of rocks sometimes. "Because it would be breaking the rules," Draco answered, as if Potter couldn't properly understand him.

Potter's concerned look slipped from his face, and he laughed. "Don't be silly. Rules were made to be broken," he remarked.

Draco balked at him indignantly. "No, rules were made to be _rules_," he almost squawked, except Malfoys don't squawk. Then he crossed his arms in challenge. "Why the fuck would anyone make them if they weren't to be followed? But then, you wouldn't know, would you? You've never followed a rule in your life."

"That's because rules are stupid," Potter countered, gesturing with his hand as if batting away a pesky fly. "Besides, you can't follow _all_ the rules, it'd be boring... and you certainly can't go through life always being afraid to get a little dirty in the process. Besides, I know for a fact that you don't follow all of the school rules."

"But I can," Draco threw back pompously. Potter gave him a look. "I _can,_" he repeated. "You know, without rules, our society would be a mess. I know that you _loathe_ organisation, but think of how lost we'd be without the Ministry and all that tripe. They give us _order_. We'd have complete chaos without rules; muggles running around rampant, students using magic outside of school, Gryffindors getting with Slytherins—"

"Wait, wait," Potter interjected. "What's wrong with that last one?"

"What do you mean?" Draco asked impatiently, annoyed that Potter had interrupted his rant. And he had had a good, snappy ending to that one too. Damn it.

"Gryffindors and Slytherins," Potter clarified. "We're here, aren't we?"

"We're not bloody _together_, you dunderhead!" Draco hissed. "We're sitting. And arguing. There's an obvious difference."

Potter's lip twitched, mimicking a smirk that was absolutely infuriating to look at. "So what do you consider _rules_, Draco?"

"_Malfoy,_" Draco sneered back, "And I have a set of rules, thank you. Would you like to hear?"

"Oh, definitely," Potter said.

Draco gave him a dirty look and then cleared his throat. "Fine. Rule number one, we are not friends."

"Broke that," Potter interjected.

Draco made a noise of agitation and swatted him. "We are not_ friends_ Potter, we're... well, we're just not, okay? So shut up. Anyways, where was I? Oh, yes. Rule number two, never play games that do not benefit yourself in some way."

Potter snorted. "How does hanging out with me benefit you? You've obviously broken that too."

"This does benefit me, but my methods are clearly too advanced for your tiny brain to handle, so you wouldn't understand. And didn't I just tell you to shut up?" Draco snapped. Potter was seriously starting to bug the shit out of him. Not that it was something new, or anything. "Rule number three, never compromise your own dignity for pleasure's sake," he went on.

"You don't remember last week then?" Potter grinned. "Two words: strip poker."

Draco almost growled, now extremely irritated with his amused companion. "That was not my fault! You cheated!"

"I didn't. You were just terrible at it."

"You just wanted to see me in my pants," Draco complained.

Potter raised his eyebrows. "Maybe I did," he challenged.

Draco decided to ignore that last comment and what it had done to his rate of his heartbeat. "Whatever," he muttered. "Anyway, rule number four, never ever ever, under any circumstances, snog the enemy. That is forbidden."

Potter laughed loudly.

Draco glared, realising that the rest of that conversation would probably be the equivalent to talking to a boorish, insensitive wall. "These rules are important as I am _strictly_ disciplinary and a prefect, mind you," he declared. "I say that Slytherins and Gryffindors aren't meant to be together. They just aren't. It's wrong."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, really!"

Potter suddenly stood up, causing the chair to make a slight screeching noise as it was thrown back, before stomping around the table towards him. The movement surprised Draco and he yelped a little, resulting in Madam Pince throwing a dirty look at _him_ before turning away again. He rolled his eyes and cursed Potter under his breath. And there the bloody git was, getting him into trouble again. He jerked his head up to give the customary lecture, but now said bloody git was standing right next to his chair, his crotch at an uncomfortably close distance to Draco's face. He scooted away, slightly embarrassed.

"Do you _mind_?" he spat, glaring harshly to disguise his flush.

Potter didn't say a word. He only tilted his head and watched Draco with those eyes, scanning him up and down as if he were some kind of prey. It was unnerving. The look made Draco gulp and frown in confusion.

"What the fuck are you—? Gah!"

Maybe Draco should have seen it coming. Because like he said, Potter _loved _to break the rules. And what rule was bigger than Draco's?

Potter had lunged at Draco, throwing one leg over Draco's lap and straddling him between the chair and the table in one swift motion, effectively locking Draco in his seat. Before Draco could protest, Potter's mouth was on his, tongue and teeth and all, with such initial bruising pressure that Draco could hardly breathe, let alone _say_ anything. Holy shit, Potter had ambushed him! Draco mumbled and pushed at Potter's chest fruitlessly, as the table was still blocking his exit, but Potter only squeezed his legs tighter in response. One hand gripped the back of Draco's neck, as if afraid that it would go somewhere, and for one split second, the other hand brushed the side of Draco's face with surprising tenderness. At the movement, Draco's heart fluttered.

It was then that something clicked within him. Maybe it was the shock, maybe it was the rush, maybe it was the hormones, he'd never know. But Draco found himself raising his hands hesitantly and placing them on Potter's lower back, closing his eyes and tilting his head just so; he finally moved his lips against Potter's with tentative curiousity. It felt... not terrible. Surprisingly so, actually. In fact, Merlin, why hadn't he done _this_ instead of all of those stupid pranks he'd agreed to? This was incredible! Draco's hands wandered up to Potter's chest, across the taut ridges and over those collarbones. Oh gods.

Draco could barely register the gasps and shrieks and '_Potter! Malfoy!_'s exploding throughout the library, as they were in clear view of the whole place; he could only recognise the feel of Potter's hands on his body, the taste of his lips, the tickle of that messy soot-coloured hair softly brushing against his forehead. Potter's surprise kiss had gotten less insistent as Draco had stopped struggling; now it was gentle, almost loving, and Potter nipped at Draco's bottom lip. Wow. Draco could almost see stars. How fucking fantastic.

"This is wrong, you say?" Potter whispered between pecks. "Because you're _strictly_ disciplinary, right?" He too was ignoring the crowd of students that had seemed to form around them in awe and confusion.

"This is, and I am," Draco breathed back, his eyes fluttering open and shut with every tiny kiss. Merlin, Potter was lovely. How had Draco not noticed it before? "But I can make an exception, perhaps."

"Because rules were made to be broken, eh Malfoy?" Potter asked softly, sitting back now and quirking an eyebrow in a manner that was positively delicious even though it shouldn't have been. Draco sighed at both the loss of contact and the pleasure of being eyed like that.

"It's 'Draco'," he corrected absently, and Potter grinned.

"Sure, Draco," he answered.

Draco allowed himself to smile back. Okay, so maybe it wasn't _so_ bad hanging out with Potter. He could definitely handle taking the blame sometimes, especially if it meant that thissort of thing was a possible reward. And maybe he wouldn't complain _every_ time Potter made him do yet another stupid prank with him, because Potter was right, Draco didn't like to follow all of the rules all of the time. Draco shook his head. Things could really be looking up for him and Potter. They really could. Their future was absolutely limitless with possibilities...

"So…" Potter began, breaking the pleasant silence and peeking up at Draco with _those _eyes. "About that plan…"

"_No_!"

**Author's Note: Ha, silly Harry. And silly Draco. This is basically a silly story, okay? Mindless banter. And I guess we'll never know what that oh so elusive plan is, eh? Well, you can just imagine. Or better yet, tell me in the form of a review? ;) Thanks for reading!**


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